The Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey [292]
“Yes, sir. Finder told me.” Jaxom didn’t bother to mention that Dorse and his friends, once they’d heard of the incident, never let Jaxom forget the weyrling who had been dashed to death on the mountain slopes because he’d overflown his young dragon.
“You’ve a double responsibility at all times, Jaxom, to Ruth and to your Hold.”
“Oh, yes sir; I know it, sir.”
N’ton laughed and clapped Jaxom on the knee. “I’ll wager you do, young Lord Jaxom, right up to the teeth!”
F’lar turned to the Fort Weyrleader, surprised at the tone of the rejoinder. Jaxom held his breath. Did Weyrleaders speak without thinking? Lord Lytol was always after Jaxom to think before he opened his mouth.
“I’ll oversee Jaxom’s initial training, F’lar, no need to worry about his sense of responsibility on that score. It’s well ingrained,” N’ton went on. “And, with your permission, I’ll instruct him on flying between when I feel he’s ready. I think,” he gestured toward the two Lord Holders arguing with Lessa, “the less publicity for that phase of training, the better.”
Jaxom could feel the slight tension in the air as N’ton and F’lar regarded each other. Suddenly Mnementh and then Ramoth bugled from the heights.
“They agree,” N’ton said in a soft voice.
F’lar shook his head slightly and brushed away the lock of hair that fell into his eyes.
“It’s obvious, F’lar, that Jaxom deserves to be a dragonrider,” F’nor said in the same persuasive tone. “It’s a question of Weyr responsibility in the final analysis. But it’s not for those Lord Holders to decide. Besides Ruth is a Benden dragon.”
“Responsibility is the overriding factor,” F’lar said, frowning at the two riders. He glanced up at Jaxom, who wasn’t certain exactly what they were talking about except that he knew he and Ruth were under discussion. “Oh, very well. He’s to be trained to fly between. Otherwise, I suppose you’d try it on your own anyhow, wouldn’t you, young Jaxom, being of Ruathan Blood?”
“Sir?” Jaxom really didn’t quite believe his good fortune.
“No, F’lar, Jaxom wouldn’t try such a thing on his own,” N’ton replied in a curious tone. “That’s the trouble. I think Lytol has done his job too well.”
“Explain,” F’lar said curtly.
F’nor held up his hand. “Here’s Lytol himself,” he said in quick warning.
“Lord Jaxom, if you would settle your friend in his quarters, and then join us all in the Hall?” The Lord Warder bowed politely to everyone. A muscle in his face started to twitch as he quickly turned and walked back to the steps.
He could have said something then . . . if he’d wanted to, Jaxom thought, staring sadly at his guardian’s broad back.
N’ton gave him another clout on his knee and, when Jaxom looked at the Fort Weyrleader, he winked. “You’re a good lad, Jaxom, and a good rider.” Then he sauntered after the other dragonriders.
“You wouldn’t by any chance be serving a Benden wine on this auspicious occasion, would you, Lytol?” the Masterharper’s voice rang across the court.
“What else would anyone dare serve you, Robinton?” Lessa asked, laughing.
Jaxom watched them filing up the steps and through the Hall doors. With a concert of shrieks, the fire-lizards abandoned their aerial display and dove toward the entrance, narrowly missing the Harper’s tall figure as they swarmed to get into the Hold.
The incident lifted Jaxom’s spirits and he directed Ruth to their quarters. As his glance swept the windows, he saw people pulling back. He sincerely hoped that Dorse and all his pals had witnessed